


Brand New

by paperstorm



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, One-Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:24:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4561026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael wants to try something new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brand New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mukeofficial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukeofficial/gifts).



Luke rolls them over, trapping Michael’s smaller body underneath his own and kissing him, lazy passes of their lips. He dips his tongue into Michael’s mouth and swirls it, tasting him, familiar and mellow. They ordered a pizza an hour ago, and the sweet flavor of tomato sauce lingers in Michael’s mouth. Michael’s hands slide under Luke’s shirt, his palms a warm, heavy weight on the small of Luke’s back.  
   
“Do you wish you’d gone out with Cal and Ash?” he asks. He’s insecure, always, that Luke is missing out when he chooses to stay in with Michael instead of go off with their bandmates on adventures – which, increasingly, happens way more often than not.  
   
“Nope.” Luke kisses along Michael’s jaw, short stubble rough against his lips. “I like being here with you.”  
   
“Really?”  
   
“Do you want me to leave? ‘Cause if you’d rather be alone …”  
   
“Shut up.” Michael wraps his arms all the way around Luke’s back, holding him in place in case he’s actually planning on taking off.   
   
Luke smiles and slides his lips back over Michael’s. His hips rock in tiny circles, a gentle back and forth like waves, just enough to send dull tremors of pleasure down his spine, their half-interested cocks rubbing together over layers of cotton and denim. Michael feels so good underneath him, soft and warm and eager. Luke likes feeling protective, even though Michael doesn’t really need protecting.  He likes the way Michael’s breath hitches when he pushes his thigh between Michael’s legs and moves it just so. It’s subtle, but Luke can’t miss it. Not like this, not when they’re pressed nearly close enough to merge into one person.   
   
“You wanna tell me what was up today?”  
   
Michael had left them this morning, earlier than he’d usually even be awake if he didn’t have to be, to run a top-secret errand that he wouldn’t talk about and blushed visibly when Ashton asked. It isn’t easy to embarrass Michael, either. He has almost no boundaries. Luke assumed it was just something Michael didn’t want Calum and Ashton knowing about, for whatever reason, but if Michael insists on keeping it from him too, Luke might start to worry.   
   
Michael just hums noncommittally underneath him, and kisses Luke to distract him.   
   
“Hey,” Luke tickles his side, grinning when Michael glares at him for it. “C’mon, tell me. Where did you go?”  
   
Michael presses his lips together and looks away. “I just. I had to go get something.”  
   
“Okay.” Luke draws the word out, trying to coax additional information.   
   
“I had this stupid thought, but then after I got it I realized how dumb it was, and … yeah. Just forget it.” He goes in for another kiss, but Luke stops him.   
   
“You know I just have  _more_  questions now, right?”  
   
Again Michael doesn’t offer anything further. He flips them back over, getting on top of Luke instead and sitting up so he’s straddling Luke’s waist. He pushes his ass down, grinding against Luke’s dick. Luke’s lower lip slips into his mouth and his eyes close, his body betraying him and giving Michael exactly what he wanted.   
   
“Want me to suck you off?”  
   
Luke groans, but grabs Michael’s hips to still them. “Yes. After you tell me where you went.”  
   
“I don’t even wanna do it any more anyway, okay?” Michael says, an irritated edge to his voice.   
   
“Do what? We were gonna do something?”  
   
“No.” It isn’t convincing. He looks embarrassed, and suddenly Luke thinks he maybe figured it out.  
   
“Oh.”  
   
“What?”  
   
“Did you …  _get_  something?” Luke raises his eyebrows. He sits up, their position awkward and unbalanced until Michael moves backwards a little so he’s seated on Luke’s thighs instead, his knees on either side of Luke’s hips. “You’re not lookin’ to like … spank me with a ping-pong paddle and call me by a girl’s name, right?”  
   
Michael rolls his eyes. “What kind of porn have you been watching? And without me?”  
   
He isn’t exactly denying it, and that makes Luke wonder. “Okay, so what? Like handcuffs or a whip or something freaky you wanted us to try?”  
   
“It’s not a  _freaky_  thing,” Michael mumbles, looking down at Luke’s mid-section instead of at his face.  
   
Blood rushes to Luke’s head, suddenly equal parts nervous and intrigued. They’ve never done anything too out-there, as far as sex goes. Luke isn’t fully sure he’s ready for it. “It is something, though.”  
   
“I knew you were gonna hate it.”  
   
“Am I saying I hate it?” Luke hugs around Michael’s waist and kisses his chest through his t-shirt. “I don’t even know what it is.”  
   
Michael cups Luke’s cheeks in his hands and tilts his face up to kiss him, deeper and more urgent than before. Luke moves one hand between them and finds the bulge in Michael’s jeans, covering it with his hand and rubbing slowly. It gets harder under his touch, straining against the tight denim.   
   
“Is this something you want?” Luke asks softly. He’s burning with curiosity now. “Something you’ve thought about?”  
   
Michael nods. “Yeah.”  
   
“So show me.”  
   
“You can say no.”  
   
“I know I can. I have to know what it is first, right? So I can decide?”  
   
Michael nods. He still hesitates, and it makes Luke nervous because Michael is. He does get up, though, and finds a small paper bag tucked into the side pocket of his suitcase. He turns in around in his hands, looking like a little kid who’s showing his mum a lamp he broke. Luke shifts to the edge of the bed so he can sit with his feet on the floor, and holds out his hand, indicating for Michael to give him whatever it is. Michael does, wincing a little like he’s expecting Luke to open it and make fun of him for it.   
   
Luke turns the bag upside down to dump its contents onto the bedspread beside him, because at least one of them has to fake some confidence here and it sure as hell isn’t gonna be Michael. It’s a strange flip of their usual dynamic, where Michael is the one brimming with self-assurance and Luke is the one playing catch-up. Michael is a pretty insecure person, in reality, but he’s skilled at faking it. What rolls out, is half a foot long, cylindrical, made of shiny dark green metal. It takes Luke just a moment to realize what it is, and then he nearly chokes on his own tongue.   
   
“Holy fuck.”  
   
Michael is watching him apprehensively when Luke turns back to him, trying to be cool about it but clearly worried Luke is going to think he’s weird and dump him on the spot.  
   
“Is that what I think it is?”  
   
Michael blushes and looks away. He doesn’t answer, but Luke doesn’t need him to. Luke reaches over and picks the thing up, explores the weight of it in his hand, feels the smooth surface with his fingers. There’s a small black switch on the bottom, which – holy  _hell_ , the god damn thing  _vibrates_. Luke turns it on and his eyes widen as it starts buzzing in his hands. It isn’t something he’s ever really thought about. He’s a little vanilla sometimes, Michael teases him about it, but Luke always figured toys like this were for people who didn’t have a dick in the room at any given moment. People who were getting their rocks off solo-style, or lesbians. Luke never considered it as a possibility for them. They have more than enough dicks between them already, he figured something like this wasn’t exactly necessary. Except Michael’s dick, as much as Luke loves it, very definitely doesn’t vibrate.  
   
“Did you – for you or me?”  
   
“I.” Michael scrunches up his nose and sighs. He sounds frustrated, like he wishes this wasn’t uncomfortable. Luke wishes that too. He comes over to sit next to Luke, probably mostly so he can continue to avoid eye-contact without it looking like that’s what he's doing. Luke knows him too well, though. “I thought. I could use it on you. If … you wanted.”  
   
Luke’s heart races at the thought of this thing  _inside_  him. Half his brain is so on board for that, imagining how it would feel. The other half … just isn’t sure yet. “Where did you get it? We’re in a city we’ve never even been to before, how the hell did you know where to  _go_?”  
   
“Google.”  
   
“What was it like?” Luke knows those shops exist, but he’s never been in one. Calum and Ashton went once, when they all lived in London, just for the laughs of it all. Luke couldn’t bring himself to go at the time. He was too embarrassed. He thought Michael maybe had wanted to go, out of curiosity more than anything, but when Luke stayed home, Michael did too. Their bandmates came back with pink cheeks and incurable cases of the giggles and a wealth of new inside jokes. They refused to tell Luke or Michael about anything they’d seen. Jerks. Luke’s the youngest, the others are supposed to  _help_ him with shit like this. They’re supposed to have his back and be his adopted big brothers, not abandon him to figure it all out on his own. Especially Ashton. It’s two years later, Luke is 19 now, and he still feels miles behind them all.  
   
“They had, God, ones that looked like actual dicks.” Michael cringes. “With like veins and a head and shit. They were terrifying. Flesh colored, why do they make them flesh colored? Who wants to walk about with something that just literally looks like you chopped off somebody’s wang?”   
   
“I have no idea.”  
   
“You hate it, don’t you?”  
   
“I … no,” Luke says, carefully.  
   
Michael sighs again and snatches the toy out of Luke’s hands, grabbing the bag from the floor and shoving it back inside.  It’s still fucking vibrating so inside the paper bag it sounds like a swarm of bees. “I knew this was a bad idea.”  
   
“No, wait, I didn’t say anything!”  
   
Michael looks annoyed, but at himself. Not at Luke. “If you have to hesitate, then you don’t want to. Look. I’m sorry. This was really stupid, I’m stupid.”  
   
“Will you stop?” Luke cries. He stands up and goes to Michael, pulling him roughly into a kiss Michael instantly returns. “It’s not stupid. It was unexpected, that’s all.”  
   
“Really?” Michael doesn’t believe him.  
   
Luke made the decision just now, but now he really does want it. They don’t usually do things like this. It sounds hot. “Yes, really.”  
   
“I swear to God, Hemmings, if you say yes just because you think it’s what I want and then you don’t like it …”  
   
Luke just giggles, and Michael glares at him again.  
   
“What did I do now?”  
   
“Nothing.” Luke kisses the tip of his nose. “Get naked.”  
   
“ _Please_ ,” Michael grumps, but he listens anyway. He pulls his shirt off over his head while Luke does the same. Once they’re bare they reconnect, arms around each other, mouths colliding again and tumbling in a pile of limbs back onto the bed. Michael ends up on top again, and he rocks down into Luke while they kiss, hard cocks sliding together in between their stomachs. Luke’s come so many times just like this, just with Michael’s tongue in his mouth and Michael’s erection rubbing over his. It’s how it happened between them the first time, so Luke likes it. It’s nostalgic, even if slightly amateur.  
   
Michael’s always been good at kissing, probably since before the person he kissed was Luke. It’s one of Luke’s favorite things to do. He pours every bit of himself into it, wanting Luke to have all his pieces. Only Luke, though. There is so much of Michael that’s only for Luke. The rest of the world doesn’t even get half of him. Cal and Ash get more than that, but nothing close to all there is. Luke gets Michael’s fears, his insecurities, the things that make him laugh until he can’t breathe, the things that make him cry. Luke gets to see Michael’s hair in the mornings when it’s wild, every beautiful inch of his body covered in sweat, the way his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open when he comes. He gets Michael when he’s homesick, grumpy, deliriously happy. The bits he doesn’t show anyone else.  
   
“Talk to me about this.” Luke slides his hand down Michael’s back to his ass, palming it and squeezing. He moves his mouth to kiss along Michael’s jaw, so Michael’s lips are free for speaking.  
   
“There’s not much to say.”  
   
“You’re proposing shoving a dildo up my ass,” Luke points out, half joking, but also half not. “I think I deserve at least a bit of back-story.”  
   
“I just, um.” Michael stops moving his hips and pushes his face into Luke’s neck. Luke wraps both arms around his back and hugs him. “I like when you can come, just on me.”  
   
“Yeah?” Luke’s heart skips a beat. His cock twitches, too, in between them. Michael probably felt it.  
   
“It’s really fuckin’ hot.” Michael swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs against Luke’s collarbone. “You’re so hot, when I … figured it’d be easier for me to get at the spot with this thing.”  
   
“Oh,” Luke breathes, laughing even though he’s crazy turned on at the idea. Coming that way is so much different than with a hand or a mouth on his dick, or even when he’s fucking Michael. It’s brighter, more intense, more urgent and more immediate when the need hits. When Luke needs to come that way, it feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t. He’s so completely useless when Michael’s fucking him, lost in it.  
   
“What?”  
   
“Nothing.” Luke doesn’t need to say it out loud, but it's so very  _Michael_ , that his secret sexual fantasy doesn’t even involve pleasure for himself. He’s always cared way more about Luke than about himself, enjoying making Luke come more than coming himself, in a way that makes Luke feel unworthy of it sometimes.  
   
“If you don’t want to …”  
   
“I do want to.” Luke’s hands lift Michael’s head up to kiss him again.  
   
“Yeah?” Michael sounds hopeful, and excited.  
   
“Go get it,” Luke tells him, nudging Michael’s cheek with his nose.  
   
Michael does, and Luke pushes up to his elbows to watch. He’s addicted like a drug to Michael’s body. His ghostly pale skin, even in the middle of summer. The tattoos that stand out so starkly in black ink against the almost white expanse they’re drawn on. The sweet curve of his ass, his perfect legs, the softness of his tummy where he doesn’t have six-pack abs like Calum and Ashton do. Luke likes it better that way. He doesn’t really have abs either. He and Michael fit so nicely together. Luke thinks sometimes Cal and Ash should be fucking too. They’re the same, in the ways Michael and Luke are the same. It’s more than physical. Luke and Michael like staying in, being out of the spotlight, playing video games together instead of clubbing. It makes Luke really happy, for Calum’s sake, that they found Ashton.  
   
Michael comes back, flipping the cap on the lube as he does and lying pressed against Luke’s side so he can kiss Luke as he slides sticky fingers down Luke’s chest. He pinches a nipple and dips his pinky into Luke’s belly-button. The heel of his palm slides slowly up and down Luke’s cock a few times, just to hear Luke gasp. It’s a subtle, barely-there burst of pleasure in his gut but it’s real all the same, and Luke tilts his hips up and asks for more. Michael doesn’t give it to him. He reaches down, briefly squeezing Luke’s balls and rubbing a fingertip against the skin behind them, and then finding Luke’s hole and petting against it. Luke moans into their kiss, the easy teasing driving him crazy already and they’ve barely done anything. It’s the anticipation, more than the actual physical sensations. The idea that when Michael slides his fingers inside, he’s prepping Luke for something other than his cock.  
   
He has three fingers pumping in and out of Luke, probably more than is necessary because the thing isn’t very big around, and Luke’s warm inside, the constant, gentle thrum of pleasure trickling along his veins. “That’s good,” he says. “C’mon.”  
   
Michael pulls his fingers out carefully and grabs the toy, finally remembering to shut off the switch so it stops moving. He sits up to drizzle lube over it and spread it around, and Luke chews at his lip-ring and wants Michael back. The air is cold against his skin where a moment ago Michael’s body was keeping him warm. He feels needy and vulnerable like this, he wants Michael close again. Michael lies back down, searching Luke’s eyes in question just one more time. Making sure. Luke swallows nervously but he manages a smile and a nod.  
   
Leaning over on one elbow, Michael presses small kisses to Luke’s neck as he reaches down and positions the toy at Luke’s entrance, pushing slowly so just the tip slips inside. Luke gasps, but urges Michael to keep going. It’s thinner than a cock so it slides in easy, lube-slicked and smooth.  
   
“Is it okay?” Michael whispers.  
   
Luke clenches around it, his eyes closed as he attempts to get used to the strange sensation. “It’s … different.”  
   
“Bad different?” Michael worries.  
   
“No. Just different. I guess ‘cause it’s cold.” It’s more solid, too, than Michael’s dick. Even fully hard, it still gives a little. It absorbs the pressure when Luke squeezes his muscles around it. This doesn’t.  
   
Michael kisses Luke’s lips and slides the toy in a little deeper, angling it, searching for the spot that will make Luke forget the unfamiliarity of the intrusion. He finds it and Luke grunts softly, bringing a hand up to grab Michael’s shoulder. Michael smiles against Luke’s cheek and does it again. He presses the tip against Luke’s prostate, and then starts moving it, sliding the smooth shaft out and in, slow and even. It’s  _good_ , in a way Luke wasn’t quite expecting. It feels foreign but in a really, really good way. Luke is overwhelmed suddenly by the fact that they’re actually  _doing this_. Michael is fucking him with a toy, there’s a god-damn dildo up his ass. Luke flushes, half in embarrassment and half because he’s fucking turned on by it all.  
   
“Shit,” he breathes, turning his face into Michael’s.  
   
“Yeah?” Michael asks happily.  
   
“Yeah,” Luke agrees, the word falling into a moan. “Michael.”  
   
Michael lowers himself down off his elbow and moves in a little closer, plastered to Luke’s side. “Love you,” he whispers, against Luke’s skin.  
   
Luke laughs shakily. “You really wanted this, huh?”  
   
“M’gonna make you feel so good,” Michael promises, his voice husky. “Just wait. Gonna make you come so hard.”  
   
Luke moans again. It’s quickly becoming too much already, especially with Michael’s fully hard cock pressing into his hip an indicator of how much his boyfriend is enjoying this too.  
   
“Can I turn it on?” Michael asks softly.  
   
“Fuck,” Luke groans. “I’d forgotten about that.”  
   
“Can I?”  
   
“Yeah,” Luke says, chewing at his lips ring again. Michael flicks the little switch with his finger and the toy comes to life, buzzing inside Luke, and holy  _shit_  that’s weird, but good, but weird, but fucking  _awesome_. “Oh God.”  
   
“Talk to me.”  
   
“Michael.” Luke can’t. He can’t speak, he can’t even  _think_ , his whole body lit up like the thing is pulsing electricity into his veins. “ _Fuck_ , Michael.”  
   
Michael laughs, low and rumbly, and kisses Luke’s lips. Luke can’t kiss back, it feels too amazing and none of his parts work properly anymore, leaving him a boneless mess for Michael to use. He buries his face in Michael’s neck instead, whimpering pathetically when Michael hits the spot again. His vison blurs. He’s coated in sweat and rocking back against it, wanting more, never wanting it to stop. Luke wants to come so badly he could cry but at the same time he never wants it to be over.  
   
“Luke, oh my God,” Michael murmurs, sounding wrecked. “You’re so hot.”  
   
Luke is just gone. He shivers and he moans, his body a live-wire, pleasure hot and intense and spinning, and he can’t do anything but lie there and drown in it. His hands scramble to find something to hold onto on Michael, his arm or his hip or just  _anything_ , fuck, just something to keep him anchored to the moment. He hears the sounds he’s making, and they’re ridiculous, loud and needy whines. He can’t stop them. He has no control over any of it.  
   
“You’re so fucking wet,” Michael breathes, reverent like a prayer, like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Fuckin’ leaking, nothing’s even touching your dick and it’s still dripping.”  
   
Luke feels it, now that it’s been brought to attention, his aching cock leaving a mess of slippery precome on his belly, fully untouched. “Mikey,” he nearly sobs, his whole world reduced to just Michael’s name because he’s lost the cognitive function to think anything else. His eyes are screwed shut and everything smells like Michael and sweat. Luke bites into Michael’s shoulder and forgets to be gentle.  
   
“You wanna come, baby boy?” Michael rasps. He drags his over mouth over Luke’s face, licking where the sweat gathers under his eye.  
   
A high, guttural moan is the best answer Luke can come up with.  
   
Michael pushes the thing into Luke all the way and just leaves it there, twisting it and grinding the tip against Luke’s prostate. The vibration makes everything so bright and shiny and good and bad, and Luke grunts so loud into Michael’s neck and twitches and comes between them, rocking back against the toy and away from it at the same time because it’s so good but too much, all at the same time.  
   
He’s like an overcooked noodle once it’s over, useless and floppy in Michael’s arms. Michael switches the thing off and pulls it out gently, tossing it away from them. It thumps as it hits the floor, and somewhere in the back of Luke’s mind it’s gross that used lube will be on the hotel room carpet now. Although it’s probably not the worst thing that’s been on that carpet, so fuck it. Luke doesn’t care. He whines and rolls into Michael, nuzzling into his neck, wanting Michael’s arms to circle around him but not capable of forming the words to ask for it. Michael’s mouth is open against Luke’s cheek, and he’s moving, just slightly rocking – Luke figures it out after a moment, the sound of skin against skin is Michael jerking himself off between them. Luke tries to help, he tries to kiss Michael properly but he can’t, can’t move, can’t think straight. Michael comes after a minute, adding to the mess already on Luke’s stomach, with a low moan of Luke’s name.  
   
Luke doesn’t give him more than a moment to catch his breath before he’s squirming, trying to get closer. Michael laughs, quiet and fond, and wraps Luke up in his arms. Luke snuggles into him and just breathes, inhaling the smell of sex and of  _them_ , his eyes closed because he’s embarrassed to open them and bear witness to what they just did.  
   
“Fuck, that was amazing,” Michael pronounces, sounding satisfied.  
   
“Not so much for you,” Luke points out.  
   
“Are you kidding?” Michael asks, with another laugh. “That’s – fuck – exactly what I wanted. You were so  _fucking_  hot. I’ve got wanking material for, like, a year.”  
   
Luke laughs too. “What are you doin’ thinking about me? You  _get_  me. You should be thinking about. I don’t know. Jessica Alba.”  
   
Michael shrugs. “I used to think about you. When we were in school, before we were together.”  
   
“You did?” Luke did too, they’ve just never talked about it. Luke used to hate himself for it, back before he’d accepted this part of himself. He used to picture Michael when he’d touch himself in bed, envision Michael kissing him, Michael’s mouth wrapped around his cock, Michael loving him back. He’d come with Michael’s name on his lips, and then cry himself to sleep. It was something he wasn’t supposed to want, back then.  
   
“You were my fantasy.” Michael wrestles the sheets over them, and tucks Luke in a little closer to his chest. “The one I imagined, when I thought about, what my life could be like if I had a magic wand and could just make everything I dreamed about come true. And then it all kinda did anyway, so. I never really wanted anyone else.”  
   
Luke blinks, and pulls back to look up at Michael through tired, bleary eyes. “You – really?”  
   
“You’re my dream girl,” Michael tells him, grinning.  
   
“Shut up,” Luke mumbles, but his heart swells in his chest all the same.  
   
“And that was  _hot_.”  
   
Luke blushes, but has to agree. And he definitely, definitely doesn’t wish he’d gone out tonight. Staying in with Michael is always better.

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr if you want!](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/)


End file.
